


The Last F

by santana-lopez (nightshifted)



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-21
Updated: 2011-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-24 20:10:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightshifted/pseuds/santana-lopez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Last F stands for 'forever'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last F

"C'mon, Britt, wake up," Santana whispers, propped up against an elbow and leaning over Brittany's sleeping body.

Brittany groans and pulls the covers over her head, curling into her pillow. She murmurs something unintelligible and turns away, her body shifting under the covers.

Santana laughs softly, careful not to wake the other girls in the room. "You promised you'd get up and explore the city with me."

After a moment, Brittany's head pops out from under the covers. Her hair is splayed across her pillow, and her eyelids flutter as she struggles to keep her focus on Santana. "What time is it?" she murmurs.

Santana reaches over to smooth Brittany's hair over her forehead. "Quarter to six."

"Early," Brittany complains, scrunching up her face.

Santana brushes the pad of her thumb over Brittany's cheekbone, then presses a light kiss to the skin there. She almost laughs at the role reversal. Back home, before everything got confusing, Brittany used to be the one who'd wake her up at ungodly hours in the morning with a rain of kisses, excited about Saturday morning cartoons and a breakfast of rocky road ice cream with sprinkles.

They'd been younger then, unweighted by the social pressures of high school, uncomplicated by emotions beyond their understanding. Love meant waking up to a smiling best friend. Love meant a well-timed cuddle, soft laughter, tangled pinkies, and _the last F stands for 'forever,' Britt, don't forget that_.

Santana swallows against the lump slowly forming in her throat. "Brittany."

Brittany's eyes flutter open again. "I'm awake," she mumbles. "I'm totally awake."

Santana rises from the floor, untangling herself from the sheets they'd dumped there in some form of makeshift bed. Santana would've complained, but Brittany had happily made herself a nest on the floor the night before, and suddenly sleeping there hadn't seemed so bad anymore.

She makes her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash up; Brittany joins her a moment later, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Santana smiles at her through the mirror, and Brittany returns the smile with a soft bump to the shoulder.

They clean up and change quickly out of their pajamas, still careful not to wake the others, and quietly slip out. Brittany's hand slides into Santana's and squeezes tightly as they make their way to the elevator.

The early morning is cool, breezy, and Santana shivers the moment she steps out of the front door of the hotel. Brittany pulls her into a nearby café and orders them coffee and muffins, then sits them down on an unoccupied couch.

Santana takes a sip of her coffee and leans her head against Brittany's shoulder. "I can't believe we're in New York City."

"Me neither." Brittany's lips curl into a small smile. "Rachel said being here was her dream. Where's your dream?"

Santana doodles a messy shape against the top of Brittany's thigh and momentarily shuts her eyes. "It's here," she says quietly.

Brittany bites her lip. "New York? Are you a Broadway nut like Rachel? Do you like Cats?"

"No, it's—" Santana laughs. "It's the idea of New York, all that crap about where dreams are made. I just… want to be somewhere where I don't have to hide who I am."

Brittany puts down her coffee and grabs Santana's hand. "You don't have to hide it from me."

"Yeah," Santana exhales, squeezing Brittany's hand.

It takes Brittany a moment, then, "Oh," she says softly, "you want to be _here_ here." Her eyes flicker. "With me."

Santana swallows hard. "With you," she replies, lifting her head and gently playing with Brittany's fingers. "I'm sorry I keep running, I just—"

"I know you're having a hard time," Brittany cuts in with a small, reassuring smile. "I don't think we should talk with our tongues super close anymore until we figure it out, but I'm always here if you need anything else."

Blinking back tears, Santana takes a deep breath to soothe her nerves. "Thank you. For everything. And… I'm trying."

"I know." Brittany lifts her hand and brushes her knuckles against Santana's cheek. "Hey. The last F stands for 'forever,' Santana," she murmurs, "or did you forget?"

Santana laughs tearfully and shakes her head. "The last F stands for 'forever,'" she echoes with a smile, feeling a part of her world shifting back into place.

_fin_


End file.
